


Pureté, Amour, Décès

by Zyzyax



Category: Alex Rider - Anthony Horowitz
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Childhood Friends, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Gen, Humor, Inappropriate Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-22
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:34:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24087430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zyzyax/pseuds/Zyzyax
Summary: For Fic-Exchange 2017 (Holiday/ December Exchange)Prompt: Tom's a good friend and Alex trusts him with his deepest secrets. But what about Alex's other best friend, James Hale? Write a fic where James finds out some startling things about Alex and demands a full explanation. What will his reaction be and will he still accept Alex?
Kudos: 19
Collections: Spyfest 2017





	Pureté, Amour, Décès

**Author's Note:**

> *** WARNING: Spoilers for series up to Russian Roulette and Never Say Die! ***

**Pureté, Amour, Décès Part One**

* * *

*** WARNING: Spoilers for series up to Russian Roulette and Never Say Die! ***

* * *

James Hale didn't believe the rumors for a minute. He may not know _everything_ about Alex, but he knew more than enough to know that his friend wouldn't do drugs or join a gang. They had been friends since they were very, very young. Alex had always been a bit quiet, but that was it. Alex had also been a complete pacifist when it came to starting fights. As in, he didn't. James knew for a fact that Alex only ever beat up bullies and maybe the occasional drug dealer. He was just so _good_. That was why James was watching, waiting. He was hoping Alex would come to him, because god knew that if you tried to go to him Alex's mouth was sealed tighter than a clam. James desperately hoped something wasn't horribly wrong. He also doubted Alex was actually sick. Weak immune system, his ass. Alex was almost never sick and that health nut of an uncle would have had him on a special diet before you could say sickly if there was actually an issue. James saw the bruises. He saw the look Alex got sometimes when he thought nobody was looking and damn if it wasn't sad. Sad he may be, but Alex's gaze never had the dullness of drugs or violence to it. His eyes were the same alert, piercing brown they had always been. That was why James was helping gather his items and why, despite everything, he'd invited his friend to a holiday. James had been hoping that Alex would open up outside of school. No such luck. At least they'd all had a good time. James allowed his mind to wander a bit longer before returning his attention back to Spanish, one of the few subjects he knew Alex wouldn't need help in. He'd accidently found out Alex was fluent one day when he'd barged in on one of the "Spanish Days" in the Rider household and been forced to communicate in his very broken Spanish. He didn't know how Alex managed with such an odd set of guardians, but he supposed it was not his business.

* * *

Alex Rider was tired. He'd just gotten back from his latest mission. They hadn't believed him about Damian Cray. They had barely taken his word about Desmond McCain. Alex wondered why he put up with MI6 most days. Oh, yeah, they blackmailed him. He'd also blown off the briefing, figuring that if MI6 wanted to know so badly, they could do their own damn investigating. At least James didn't seem to buy the rumors, even if Alex had deliberately pulled away from him, figuring Jack and Tom were more than enough blackmail material for MI6 Special Operations without adding James and a few other childhood friends in the mix. Tom and he seemed to be spearheading the misdirection movement. Tom to keep people from finding the truth and James to try to find a plausible explanation for his absences. James probably thought he was being subtle, but Alex had been his friend for ages and was with MI6 for a reason. At least he had a few other people that didn't think he was a gangbanging druggie. Speaking of morons at his school…"Hey, druggie! Know where I can get a hit?! I mean, the last dealer vanished." Before Alex could even get a word in edgewise, he heard Eddie's head slam into a set of lockers. "Fuck off, Eddie! Alex _is not_ a druggie!" To his surprise, it was James and not Tom. James the bodily shoved Eddie a few feet in the direction of the door. The addict quickly left the room, recognizing the fact that two of the fittest kids in the school were allies at the very least. James sighed. "Sorry, man. I know you believe in that pacifist shit, but I don't." Alex was actually touched. "Thank you, James." It was far better than the agency that refused to defend him.

* * *

James was relieved that Alex wasn't too pissed. Pissed Alex was scary Alex. The guy didn't actually do anything, but he just went very quiet and got a look that said he could crush like a bug you if he cared to. Speaking of which…"You want a walk home buddy? I know Tom ain't back until next week 'cause of those damn parents of his. I know I ain't your boy, but I'm still pretty." Alex snorted at the innuendo. "Sorry James, I like women." His friend chuckled. "Sorry to hear that, mate. I know a few of the guys are too." Alex rolled his eyes at James' antics. They were both straight as a board. "Sure, I could use the company." James was actually fun to hang around and he didn't ask too many questions. James strolled along with Alex, since neither of them had taken their bikes for that day. James was grinning at the small victory. Now all he had to do was get Alex in a talkative mood. Unfortunately, something came to interrupt James' plan. The minute they turned the corner James had the wind knocked out of him as he and Alex hit the ground. It took him a minute to register the fact that they had been shot at. Alex was already getting up and moving towards the attacker. James could only watch as the first two were taken by surprise. Go, Alex! Right, he began to pick himself up as ugly number three and four converged on Alex. The only reason Alex had gotten the first two had been surprise. Alex was a black belt, but these guys seemed somehow more lethal. James the spotted a bar from the now destroyed car. He was pretty sure it used to be an axel. Just as Alex was about to be kidnapped (the back of his mind was screaming at him). James gave number three a solid whack over the head. The days of football and weight training seemed to have paid off and the guy went down like a rock. James got punched by the other guy just as Alex knocked him out. "Man, you are so explaining this later."

* * *

Alex gave him a look that suggested he was crazy. "Explain why some obviously completely crazy men want to kidnap me, James?" James snorted. "These have got to do with you missing school. You telling me you got kidnapped all those times? Cause if you were, damn, blondes must be in demand with old pervs these days." Alex actually burst out laughing. He'd missed James' sense of humor. At the same time, he was getting dangerously close to the truth. Alex couldn't find it in himself to care overly much. "You may as well leave me." James gave him a look that said he was the crazy one. "And let you get kidnapped by sex traffickers all by yourself? Hell, no. We're all in this together, bro." Alex snorted. "Did you just quote _High School Musical_ at me?" James grinned. "If that's what it takes, man, but I thought it was called _The-Horrid-Movie-That-Shall-Not-Be-Named._ " Alex was chuckling the rest of the way home. James had always had a protective streak, even if Alex hadn't needed it before. James was hesitant to leave Alex by himself. "You…uh…want help with some of the catching up, man? I suck at languages, but I got notes for everything else." Alex was relieved it was not Tom. Tom was a good friend, but his attention had the tendency to wander in class. James actually took decent notes with less doodles. "Here man, just make copies for all the stuff you've missed. That way, you can study up when I'm not here." Alex was happy for the first time in a while since the entire business had started up. He'd forgotten how much James Hale was like having your own personal sun. The clouds of your life stayed away nicely.

* * *

It was late at night when James suddenly got serious. "Alex, we almost got kidnapped today." Alex glanced up from his make-up maths homework. "Yeah, we did." James gave him a long look. "You didn't learn those moves in karate class, either." Alex shrugged. "No, I didn't." James sighed. "You sure as hell aren't in a gang or doing drugs." Alex gave him a dry look. "Is this going somewhere anytime soon?" James suddenly lost the courage he'd built up to ask Alex what was going on. "Not really man, but if you want to talk or something… I'm still your friend, you know." Alex felt a wave of warmth. "Thank you, James." The boy sighed again and looked at him. "You may not be sick, but I am worried one of these days you'll disappear and never come back, you know." Alex groaned. Not another one. The next question was unexpected. "Can I stay with you tonight?" Alex had been expecting him to break off their friendship. "Sure." Alex answered before thinking and instantly regretted it. How the fuck was he supposed to hide his burns from James now? Speaking of which they were still sore and burning and itchy. Alex resisted the urge to scratch, knowing it would only cause him more pain. "Change in subject, man. We have a school dance thing coming up-" Alex interjected. "I'm not getting set up, James." James was known as the worst matchmaker in the school. "Not that, I mean you know how to dance, right?" Alex resisted a smirk. Yes, he knew how to dance. "Need help? I knew you had an ulterior motive." James groaned. "I need you to teach me how to dance Alex. I finally got a date and I don't want to screw up. You know all prissy ones girls like, right?" Alex smirked. "Oh, Jamesie, you're in loooove." He got a pillow to the head. "Shut up, man. Please?" Alex wore a devilish half-smirk. "Well James, since you asked so nicely…" James rolled his eyes in good humor. "I walked into that one on purpose, man." Alex rolled his eyes. "Sure you did."

* * *

Alex sighed and stretched his hand. "I need a break anyway." He offered James his hand. "The first thing you need to get down is the invite to dance…" An hour or so later Alex thought they were ready for music. He managed to scrounge Jack's radio (she was going to be out late because of some concert) and CD's and put them on. "Now James, when you dance to the music, it isn't so much the steps as it is the music. Try to stay in sync with both your partner and the rhythm. Remember, you are the lead, so try to make sure you don't run into other couples. Now, we try." It took a few tries, but Alex was feeling reasonably confident James wouldn't crush his date's feet. James had a question. "What about the close dancing and stuff?" Alex sighed. Like he got the chance to do much of that anymore. Sabina was in America. "Well, you put your hands on each other's shoulders or even back and you just kind of sway. That is more of a by feel thing. It also depends on your date's height and how comfortable she feels getting close to you." Alex smoothly turned James into him to demonstrate the transition. "See?" At least SCORPIA and Ian had gotten one thing right for his life. Knowing how to dance made even non-lethal socialization easier. James abruptly stepped out of the turn and pulled him into a hug. Alex flinched as James unintentionally hit his burns and relaxed almost instantaneously. "Thanks, man. You're a lifesaver." Alex gave a mental sigh of relief. Maybe James hadn't noticed his jolt after all. "By the way, your back feels really warm. You might want to get it looked at." Alex shrugged it off. "Already did." James gave him a funny look he couldn't quite read. "If you say so."

* * *

The two of them ended up doing their homework together late into the night. Jack was home. She looked surprised to see James there. "Boys! Bedtime! You have school tomorrow!" Alex raised an eyebrow. "Jack it's Friday." James could barely contain his snort. "Fine. Bedtime at midnight." James withheld a smile. It was always eleven at his house. James decided to shower while Alex finished his last assignment of the night. When Alex finally did, he noticed it took longer than usual. James didn't comment. It wasn't like showering was the only thing some people did in the shower. Alex didn't used to wear a shirt to bed, though. Alex arms seemed to have been injured recently as well. James felt a stab of guilt about the kidnapping jokes. What if something _had_ actually happened to Alex? Then again, he was sure Alex would tell him if he was over the line, so to speak. James decided to curl up next to him in bed. It was nice just to have a friend there. Especially Alex, who pulled a disappearing act eight times this year. He'd missed his friend. And James was going to find out who hurt him and hopefully pay them back in kind. He wasn't blind or stupid. Alex was getting hurt. James wanted to stop it. With that cheerful thought, he drifted off to sleep. James was awakened only a few hours later to Alex's groan of pain and a searing heat that seemed to be coming from his friend. Shit. Maybe he was actually sick. But that didn't explain the bruises. James decided that the friend move was to get the aspirin and scissors. God knew Alex didn't need the body heat from the shirt that seemed to be stuck to his back. Alex was on his stomach. He was only vaguely aware that he was awake. The rest was consumed by a terrible burning sensation on his back. He was on fire on the platform again. There was a cool line of metal down parts of his back and an exclamation. "Jesus Christ!" It was James. Shit. Alex got up, narrowly avoiding running into his friend, immediately regretting it when the room seemed to spin.

* * *

The rest of the shirt fell away and James saw a bullet wound. It was unmistakable, even to someone who hadn't seen one before. He resisted the impulse to swear. Jesus. Alex had been hiding that from the whole fucking school, except Tom. There was that time they had disappeared together and James was sure Tom knew. The knowing looks he got sometimes and the silent glances shot across the classroom. James decided to save the questions for when his friend wasn't dying of fever. He managed to get Alex back on the bed and yelled for Jack, who came running. Jack tsked. "He should have asked for help changing his bandages. Looks like they're about to be infected." James was agape as he watched Jack treat Alex. "I'm certified in first aid." James managed to regain some of his brain power. "Shouldn't he be in the hospital?" Jack rolled her eyes. "He would have just checked himself out, honestly." She mixed the aspirin into some water and managed to get Alex to swallow without choking. "He should be fine in an hour or two." James wasn't leaving Alex's side. "Are you sure you don't want to go home?" James shot a glare at her. Jack sighed. "I can…" James rolled his eyes. "Don't bother, I'm asking Alex when he wakes up." James spent the rest of the night watching his clearly very injured friend. James was deep in thought, even as Alex fitfully seemed to be getting better.

* * *

When Alex woke, it was the most serious he had ever seen James. "Alex, what the hell is going on?" Alex sighed, looked around, and took a deep breath. James started. "Please don't lie to me Alex, I just want to help you. I want to be your friend." Alex nervously looked around one more time. "I… I work for the government." James was shocked at first, but when he considered it… Alex spoke a lot of languages. He did a lot of extreme sports. The injuries of a soldier. The secrecy surrounding his disappearances. The official-looking doctors' notes that always checked out. The long absences. The traces of hair dye. The fact that the science-wing burndown had been covered up. It seemed obvious, in hindsight. "It seems obvious, in hindsight." Alex let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "It makes more sense than the school rumors do." Alex was relieved. James believed him. He could breath again. Alex had been bracing for the disbelief, the hurt. James turned his eyes on Alex and Alex thought his heart would stop. James looked so wounded. "Why, Alex? Why couldn't you wait? You're barely alive. You get so hurt. Couldn't you wait?" Alex let out a desperate moan he hadn't known he'd been holding. He was almost choking. "I didn't _want_ to. I _never_ wanted to. _They_ made me. _They_ made it so I couldn't say no. And now I'm stuck. Lying to my friends. Almost failing school." James felt a fire ignite in his chest. "The _hell_ you are. I will help you pass if it _kills_ me. And _when_ you pass, you'll have all the options in the world, just like the rest of us." Alex smiled faintly. "Thank you James, but I'll settle for passing right now." James snarled. "You shouldn't _have to_! You're one of the smartest blokes in the grade!" Alex smiled in truth this time. "I know James, but don't shout. You'll wake the neighbors.

* * *

James loved Alex enough that he was willing to risk everything for him. James also had his own set of secrets. Secrets that would get his whole family in prison if they got out. When your aunt and uncle were as rich as his were, you didn't live your life without a few shady characters. Thankfully, he wasn't into drugs. His choice of danger usually limited itself to the occasional bout of thrill-seeking and being friends with Alex. He did know a few guys who were shady, for lack of better words. "Right. So Alex, I know a guy who knows a guy who can help with your problem." Alex was almost afraid to ask. "And how pray tell do you know these characters of less than stiff moral fiber." James just gave Alex a flat look. "My uncle is obscenely rich, remember." Alex's lips twitched and he remembered a particular parasailing experience. "And here I was giving them the benefits of the doubt about plans to take over the world." James rolled his eyes. "It's not like that. It's just if someone wants to get around a few immigration laws or something. There's no real harm in it." Alex refrained from saying anything. "So what has this got to do with me?" James gave him a mysterious half-smile that he'd never seen before. "You'll see." James was determined to help Alex. This would require a rather tedious bargain with his uncle. James knew he didn't have enough experience to deal with the crooks by himself. Oh, well. Alex was worth whatever his old uncle came up with as his payment for doing him a favor. James was going to help Alex if he could. But what could two kids do against the government? At least he knew the approach he would use for his uncle.

* * *

A few days later…

* * *

"Uncle?" The man sat imperiously at the dining table. "Yes, James?" The man preferred bluntness. "Do you believe the government is capable of doing evil?" The man looked at him. "I believe this was the point I tried to impress upon you years ago, James. What has changed your mind so suddenly? Or rather, who?" James felt the weight of keeping Alex's secret for the first time. "You remember Alex?" The man nodded. "Of course. An extraordinary young man who will go far." James hesitated. "The government is doing things to him. He might need a way out." The man's gaze sharpened more than James had ever recalled seeing it. "What kind of things?" James knew this would determine the outcome. "Remember the stories you told me about Edward and the draft. Uncle, Alex is _my_ Edward." The man nods sorrowfully remembering the friend he'd lost to the draft and then to the war. "I was hoping you would be older for this talk, James." James dipped his head. "Truthfully, Uncle, so was I." The old man seemed more alive than he had been in years. "Your friend, he is in too deep, yes? Be warned, he may not take your help when it is offered. Heavens knows my Edward didn't until it was too late." The man knew that this was something he had to do for his nephew. "I will help you, James. With this and beyond. Perhaps we can save your friend. Perhaps not. Perhaps we will be picking up his pieces. It is time for you to learn from me James. Both sides of the business. I will not be around forever, hmm?" James knew that this was what the man had wanted all along, after all, he had repeatedly stated that James was the best part of his legacy. "Yes, Uncle, I will try to study diligently." The old man met his gaze, and for the first time James could see what had let him survive a war. "No, James, you _will_ study diligently." With that, he left.

* * *

Andrew Hale had met Edward Brown long before he'd married Celestine (his wife, with whom he'd had no children of his own- she was French and he was English). They had been friends, best friends and they had both been drafted. Edward had genuinely believed in country and crown by the end of it and Andrew Hale had _reservations_ , but didn't want to get in the way of his friend's happiness. Eventually, Edward had become disillusioned (long after the war ended) and planned to let his contract expire. The army hadn't liked it much and did their utmost to keep him, including things of questionable legality. Andrew had done his best to get his friend a new life after becoming rich enough to never get drafted again (a self-made business man). Sadly, his friend's paperwork had mysteriously not gone through. From that war, Edward hadn't returned. They had sent the pieces back to Andrew for a funeral. Andrew had been heartbroken and no longer saw fit to obey ethics not entrenched within the laws. He took laws as loose suggestions on how people should behave and had eventually met his match in a woman he'd met in France. Andrew visited the man's grave every year and cursed the government that had ever sought to draft its citizens. Every year there was a single white, a single black, and a single red rose on Edward Brown's grave. James had always thought that his uncle had been exaggerating, until a few days ago. He decided to visit Edward's grave with his uncle this year. This year he'd bring Alex the same. Purity. Love. Death. It seemed to follow both their families.

* * *

**Pureté, Amour, Décès Part Two**

* * *

There was a shift in his relationship with James. It was subtle at first, but it became more obvious as time went on. Alex was afraid his friend was becoming obsessed. James was as friendly as ever and helped Alex cover up. Alex had never realized that Tom and James were so good at keeping secrets. After Razim, James had gotten a look that was sad, but knowing. After Jack and him had come back later, his friend had been relieved. James seemed to be keeping secrets of his own, but it would be hypocritical of Alex to comment, considering. James was almost overprotective, which made Alex want to scream and laugh at the same time. His friend had also taken to bringing him flowers, roses specifically. Alex couldn't really understand why James had started bringing him a red, white, and black rose every time he got back from missions or there was a holiday, but if that was as weird as James got, Alex would be thankful. Sure enough, there was a vase in his house. Jones had given him an odd look when Alex explained that, no it was not a death threat, just James. She had then proceeded to mention that she was completely fine with whomever he decided to spend his time with. Alex supposed that would be the assumption. For MI6, their assumptions were rather base. Crawley had just sort of stared at the odd combination. When Alex had gone to visit the Hales during the holidays, James had presented him with a box that had a silk set of the flowers. "James. What do these stand for?" His friend had just sort of half-smiled. "Purity, love, and death, Alex." Alex had just sort of shrugged. "You know I don't date, right?" James shrugged. "Not all love is sexual, Alex." Alex began to understand. "Thank you, James." The two were still perfectly comfortable. "I never did ask how that dance went." James snorted. "It isn't really important, but it went well. I broke up with her, though." They both go to sleep in the same room.

* * *

Alex woke up to the smell of a traditional french breakfast. He was at James' house, he remembered. James had looked so crestfallen at the mention of his deal with Jones that he'd regretted it. They would blackmail him anyway, he suspected. At least this way his new 'boss' would be more inclined to share. James had mentioned to Alex that if he ever wanted a way out that he would help him. Alex wondered what James had gotten himself into. The uncle had a way of always having his way. Ben came to pick him up, since Jack was grocery shopping. Alex suspected Jones would want to see him soon. The surveillance tended to pick up the few days before he got an assignment. Alex didn't miss the look of pure hatred James shot Ben. Ben didn't seem to notice. "Goodbye, James." His friend's gaze immediately softened upon hitting him. "Stay safe, Alex." Alex climbed into the car. "So, why is it so critical that I get back from vacation on time?" Ben shot him an amused look. "So suspicious Alex. I could have just been in the area." Alex rolled his eyes. "Bullshit, Ben. Try that one on the newbies. I have a mission don't I?" Ben sighed. "Yes, of course."

* * *

Many years later…

* * *

Alex was in his thirties now and one of the most successful agents in the history of MI6. The only problem now was that Jones wanted him to take a job as part of command that Alex knew for a fact would lead to him being head or deputy head of the agency. That was where Alex drew the line. MI6 could order him to his almost certain death, give him a partner, or even a temporary company, but he refused to send others to death as part of his usual day. He. Was. An. Agent. That was final and as high as he wanted to be in the organization he hadn't wanted to join in the first place, much less lead. No matter how much he protested, Jones was insisting he take over. Alex had refused his boss for the first time in almost two decades. Hence the string of horrible mission he was sure had a 99% chance of his death. He was escaping by the skin of his teeth as it was. Jones probably thought this would convince him to take the job. She was wrong. All it did was convince Alex he should finally get out, for good. This was the last mission before he was out, forever. Terrorist organisations would probably throw a massive party once they heard he was gone. He'd tried calling allies he'd made, but they all seemed to agree with Jones. Even Fiona Friend agreed with Jones, much to his shock. Ben had said the person who didn't want the head's job tended to be the best at it. K-unit had wondered why he was bothering to question his superiors. He was good at his job. Tom still thought the job was super cool. Only Jack and James had seemed to understand his predicament. Jack had told him to do what he had to. James had come up with a plan, and Alex had hardly been in a position to refuse. To his surprise, James had been the one to stay in contact. After the death of James' family to natural causes, Alex seemed to be the man's only attachment. Every year, every mission, and every holiday he got the roses, along with the other presents. It had been the cause of much speculation at his job and the reason every single one of his girlfriends had eventually broken up with him. They didn't seem to get that he and James were just really good childhood friends.

* * *

The corner of Alex's lips twitched as he remembered a particularly bad breakup. It hadn't been funny at the time, but it was in retrospect. His girlfriend had gone ballistic about the flowers at the end of every mission and the fact that Alex spent one completely platonic night with James (his house had been closer and Alex had been tired) and had accused him of stringing them both along. Alex had been insulted by the fact that she thought he lacked basic integrity (he made a point never to cheat) and promptly said that if was a choice between a friend who trusted him and a girlfriend who didn't it; it was quite easy. She'd ended up torching the property and Alex had wound up at James' longer than planned. His friend had justly wordlessly shook his head in amusement and made a point of having the flowers delivered at Alex's workplace after that. Alex found it amusing that the two still got questions after nearly two decades of them being only friends. The two had even pranked the office by acting like they were actually dating, hence the rumors. Jones had tried to background check James, but it had turned up clean (Alex had been prepared to hack '6 if it didn't). Alex had rolled his eyes when Jones asked if he wanted a civil partnership. Did nobody notice that they didn't actually have sex? Alex once again sighed off the inobservance of his colleagues as he waited for 'supervillain' to show up. Honestly, who thought genetically engineered penguins were a good idea?

* * *

After the usual ramble about how they were going to use a convoluted plan to take over the world, Alex escaped a 'supervillain' for the final time. The sense of relief he had convinced him that this had been the right decision. He was getting kind of old for such an active job, anyway. Hadn't Yassen wanted to retire at just over thirty-five-ish? Alex remembered the dead man quite vividly, even after all these years. The sleek, lethal grace with which he moved and the encounters they had left a vivid impression. Alex had eventually gone looking for the man's past and eventually found the flash drive. It had given him a sense of closure. Alex grabbed his gear on the way out. He had Jack to warn and his death to fake. Alex found the idea of a fake sniper appropriately ironic. He would wear a vest similar to the one his father had worn all those years ago in Malta. James' people would snipe him and carry him off in full view of the bank. Alex had checked five years after he'd been shot and still found the roof quite easy to access. Apparently, MI6 was still arrogant enough to think that no one would shoot at them in front of their base. It was one of the many reason Alex had decided to leave. The other had been included but not limited to: he was not the only agent they had ever blackmailed (just the youngest), they were guilty of certain war crimes he'd rather not think about, certain people had abused their power to section people that had simply pissed them off, not to mention the shitty back-up, and the fact that they hadn't believed him quite a few times he called out certain people as threats (all had been accurate). Alex was beginning to suspect they had done it on purpose to make sure he investigated. Call him paranoid, but the new version of MI6 was a little too close to SCORPIA for his comfort zone. Not that they were around anymore. They were long-dead, but other had risen in their place, some more violent and some less. Alex's job felt endless and now he was leaving.

* * *

Tulip Jones was unsure of her latest decision. Blackmailing Alex had only ever turned out well, historically, but it didn't stop her from feeling a squelch of guilt about it. Tulip had clung to the remnants of her humanity on Alan Blunt's advice. Alex had served them faithfully and went above and beyond duty. He had protested so hard. Even now, he was stubbornly resisting accepting the promotion (in six weeks he would have no choice, but Tulip had decided not to mention that, in case he wanted to do something rash). She'd thought he'd gotten over most of his stubbornness about working for them at fifteen, but apparently not. What was the difference between doing missions and commanding them? The feeling that she was missing something returned. It was never a good feeling, maybe she was finally succumbing to paranoia? Alex wouldn't leave would he? He had said he would work for them if necessary, even if Jones had stretched the truth a few times. Rider had gotten over it before and he would get over it again. She still had a soft spot for him all these years and regretted that she hadn't made up their last argument to him. Alex had begun moving his funds to various banks and other areas they couldn't track, claiming it made some covers easier. Jones had agreed to it, after all it was only practical. It has also worked several times without a hitch, although MI6 was unsure of the amount of money Alex had. They had given him his inheritance from Ian and his parents some time ago.

* * *

Alex heard the clang of the streets as he approached Liverpool. Generally, he refused a car ride from his boss - they were far to conspicuous. This time, he approached the street from behind, catching the gleamed of the sniper rifle in the air. Everything was set, and the most he would have was a few bruised ribs. Alex felt a sense of peace was over him as he got closer to the spot he'd once been sniped in. A shot rang out in the air and Alex felt the bullet slam into him. If he hadn't been wearing his vest, it would have killed him this time. he pushed the button on his chest to release the blood - his, if anyone checked (all agents were required to have some in reserve). He lay on the ground as men in black (not MI6) converged on him. People were screaming. Only Jack, Tom and James would know the truth. Alex closed his eyes and allowed the pain to get to him. It didn't matter. He was free.

* * *

James Hale was relieved to hear the plan had gone off without a hitch. Alex was in the custody of 'unknown terrorists' and purportedly dead. No one would give him away. No one would blackmail him into going on another mission ever again. His coworkers thought he was dead. Jack and Tom would be safe from potential kidnappers. Alex would live on a deserted little island after some facial alterations, a change in eye color, and permanent brown hair dye (from Smithers, though he hadn't known what it was for) that would only wash out with a certain chemical. He'd gotten his friend a whole new identity as a translator for people whose money was made with varying levels of legality. James figured it would be just exciting enough that his friend would stay out of trouble. James had decided to travel to the island with his friend to join him there. Alex liked having at least one friend close. This time it would be James. Part of him liked the fact that it had been him that rescued Alex in the end and not anyone else. He'd long since stopped himself from being too self-pitying about running his uncle's business. James suspected the old man would have been proud if he was still alive. He was just as obscenely rich as him _and_ he'd rescued his friend. James decided it was time to start packing if he wanted to catch his flight. He closed his laptop. Then he packed the last of his bags, he was moving in with Alex after all. The private flight went off without a hitch. The island was stunning to look at and the climate was nice and warm. James changed into khakis and a white t-shirt to greet his long-time friend. James smiled as he exited the plane and caught sight of his friend in the exact same wardrobe choice.

* * *

Smithers and Ben Daniels were devastated. Their friend had been gunned down and his body taken (God knew what _they_ wanted with it) in front of them and they hadn't been able to do anything. Alex was supposed to have been out of danger and was even going to be out of field work soon. He wasn't supposed to die. They hadn't believed it at first, but when the analysis of the shot came back as 100% fatal, they had no choice but to accept the reality of their friend being gone. No more sarcastic quips. No more hearing Jones get roasted because backup was late. It felt like the soul of MI6 had died with him. It had been nothing compared to Jack and Tom's reaction. They had promptly kicked Crawley out of their house, screaming at him that he could have at least saved the body for them to bury. Ben had decided to hold off on his resignation, but his heart wasn't in the work anymore. It just wasn't the same without Alex. _Miss me already, Fox?_ Oh, god. He was definitely hearing things now. _Yep, but don't worry Foxy, in MI6 we're all crazy._ Ben choked back a sob. Jones had put him on desk work and he wasn't complaining. _Tsk, Tsk. Fox, you really are sentimental without my teasing._ His psychologist wanted him to talk about it. Ben was scared that if he did, he'd quit hearing Alex. Ben wasn't quite sure he was ready to let go, even if it was pathetic to hang on to the auditory hallucination of his long-time partner. _I don't know, Ben, MI6 is pretty pathetic without me. I mean look it's 'dead' quiet here. What kind of boring office is quiet?_ Ben disguised his half laugh, half sob with a cough. There was something about his partner that had seemed unconquerable, almost like a force of nature. And now Alex was gone, gone far before he should have been. He wouldn't even make it to forty.

* * *

Joe Byrne was retired now. It didn't stop him from hearing Alex Rider was dead. Why it surprised him, he wasn't sure. You could only escape death so many times. It also didn't stop him and the former president from making a furious phone call to Director Jones. "How the _hell_ does someone's top agent get shot in the street _in front of headquarters_?" Jones sighed. She asked herself the same question. "We were lax in our security. It won't happen again." Byrne was furious. "That's what you said last time! It had better not a happen a fucking third time. For fuck's sake, a guard at the top of that roof, tear down the building, do something!" Joe decided that it was time to try to cool off. The former president took over from there. It was almost hilarious to watch. Jones looked thoroughly ashamed by the end of the lecture the politician gave her. They may be old and retired now, but they still had quite a bit of sway. Joe supposed it was time to inform Tamara. She would be devastated. The rest of the agencies would be to, come to think of it. Most of them had either heard of or worked with the man. Alex had seemed eternally young and invincible. They didn't even have a proper body. Jesus. Why wasn't dead enough anymore? Why the fuck would a bunch of sick murdering psychos want a dead body? This was why he retired. It had been so much simpler when it was just the Russians who were evil back in the Cold War. Then again, it technically was no longer his problem. It was a damn shame, though. Alex really had been a nice kid. Joe was definitely going to the funeral.

* * *

Smithers stared gloomily into his workshop. Alex had always been a delight to build for. He'd gotten to experiment with gadgets for a younger audience. The late Agent Rider had always been thankful for his devices, too. Alex had always claimed Smithers gave him just the right amount for every mission. Smithers liked to say it was that Alex figured out how to use them in all the right ways. He recalled one conversation they'd had, which had cheered him up. _Don't let the others get you down, Smithers. Your gadgets are brilliant. You're brilliant, really._ It had been after one of their coworkers complained that the explosive pens weren't explosive enough to kill people. Alex had stuck by him, even visiting him on occasion. He'd once persuaded the man to have tea with him, though Smithers suspected Alex had just given in after years of being asked. Only Alex had been confident enough to try some of his more unorthodox and experimental designs. Smithers had a set of gear that was special and for Alex only. It seemed almost sacrilegious to give it to another agent, so in his office it sat. He'd even taken Alex's suggestion for explosive peppermints. Jones hadn't been nearly as amused as the rest of her colleagues. For some reason, they had become instantly popular with MI6 Special Operations. Smithers wasn't sure why, no, not at all. Alex had been smirking for weeks at that one. It had been totally worth listening to Jones threaten his budget (not that Smithers believed she would actually cut it). He could almost hear Alex's puns now. _Now, Smithers, not going all gooey over my death are you. Why the moral might just go dead, without you. Or with you, depending on how much cake you pass out. Diabetes kills, after all._ Smithers suppressed a snort. He would miss Alex's snark and the little jokes they liked to share. Smithers decided he would be making one last device for his Alex Rider collection, because why not?

* * *

**Epilogue…**

* * *

Alex was an old man now. He'd lived on the island, working as a translator (not that he needed the money), and eventually retired. He never thought he'd make it this far. James had stayed with him, even after, with the occasional visit from Jack and Tom. He'd left Smithers and Ben behind. It was sad, but their first loyalty was to their country and Alex hadn't wanted to risk his unorthodox retirement. The intelligence agencies hadn't troubled him in nearly forty years. He and James were assumed by the locals to be a couple and considering they both looked of age and happy, no one had questioned it. MI6 hadn't even bothered to look at him twice. Eventually, he'd heard that Crawley and later Ben had taken over MI6. It didn't really matter, and in the end everyone was reasonably happy and safe. He'd even gone to his funeral (disguised of course). It had been a sombre affair with a surprising number of attendees. Then again, he'd helped quite a few intelligence agencies. He could've sworn he'd seen one or two of his classmates from a certain island owned by SCORPIA, as well. Probably just to confirm his death. Alex took a peaceful walk by the sea, untroubled by the paranoia that had been his survival for almost twenty years. He knew his time was coming soon, despite his looking after himself. No one could live forever. It was nice that he'd made it this far without some kind of finding out or intervention by an intelligence agency. He'd enjoyed his retirement and so had James. Of the three of them, only Tom had kids, so that was whom their wills were written for. Jack had passed some years earlier, but would always have a special place in Alex's heart. Alex finished his walk and went inside, turning off the light in his room and going to sleep one final time.

* * *

**Fin.**


End file.
